Monday is my laundry day. If I get nothing else done I do 6 to 8 loads in my ginormous washer and dryer set, fold and hang everything, and get it all to the proper room. Where it becomes the sole responsibility of the owner. Except for Seb's clothes which I gladly put away for him.
Except sometimes, people are out of socks on Sunday. All the socks are white. It's just easier that way.
Sunday night- at bedtime- Caleb announced to me that he had no clean socks. So, I had to run a load of whites. Jonah goes to bed later than the other kids because otherwise he keeps them awake. It's easier all around if we put him to bed a half hour later. Besides, they lay and read for about 30 minutes anyway. And he doesn't. But back to the laundry....
I was standing by the hamper of whites, turning the socks right side out, and then throwing them in front of the washer, and Jonah was loading them into the machine. Every time he threw a sock into the machine he hollered, "Dead Fish!"
Weird. Strange. Deranged child. I wonder if it had anything to do with having been at Pike Place Market and seeing the fish flying through the air.
Suddenly, he turned to me and said, "Mom, when I'm out of socks and I do the shirts I'm gonna' say 'Dead Whale!'"